Leaving Tía Dalma's cabin
Barbossa looks around at the cabin. They've all been gone for some time now, even Jack the monkey, to tie up their loose ends before starting to search for Jack the man, but he has stayed behind. Why? Well, because a man needs some time to think, some time to reflect on things after being cursed with undeath for almost a decade and then shuffled off the mortal coil without much of an intermezzo. Not to forget, then brought back to life to such a... Spiny situation.
But enough is enough. The apples that Tía Dalma keeps wouldn't be the best, even if they were fresh, and considering the surroundings everything edible or drinkable in the area is sure to be poisonous or just plain nasty. And he's growing tired of rum and apples, anyway so... Time to look for that door. He pushes himself up from the chair he's been sitting on, and suppresses a small wince. His leg is worse now than it was during his undead years. Who would have thought that the curse of living death had its advantages, after all. With a sardonic smirk he grabs his weapons and starts to look around the small cabin.
[...]
Curse the bloody... Woman! How is anyone supposed to find anything in this gods-forsaken mess of knick-knacks, odd, ends and general pile of rubbish...? He stands again in the middle of the cabin and scans the room, a fierce curl to his upper lip almost looking like a grin for a moment. Then his gaze falls upon the large chest resting in one corner, near the bed he woke up on. His heavy lids fall halfway closed and he walks up towards it cautiously. Could it be? It -is- large enough for a man to walk through, and it would be so very much like -her- to hide it in such a twisted way.
He draws his sword, using the tip to open the bolt and carefully flip the lid open. Ta da. For a moment, vertigo seizes him when his brain and eyes start arguing about perspective and where exactly is "up" but he manages to impose some measure of order and sanity. Yes, it definitely looks like a tavern, or an inn's common room, just like they warned him it would. Weird, but recognizable.
Ah, what the Hell, can't be weirder than having been on all three sides of life and death, can it...? And it is with this so very wrong thought that Héctor Barbossa steps or rather falls through the door and into Milliways.
But enough is enough. The apples that Tía Dalma keeps wouldn't be the best, even if they were fresh, and considering the surroundings everything edible or drinkable in the area is sure to be poisonous or just plain nasty. And he's growing tired of rum and apples, anyway so... Time to look for that door. He pushes himself up from the chair he's been sitting on, and suppresses a small wince. His leg is worse now than it was during his undead years. Who would have thought that the curse of living death had its advantages, after all. With a sardonic smirk he grabs his weapons and starts to look around the small cabin.
[...]
Curse the bloody... Woman! How is anyone supposed to find anything in this gods-forsaken mess of knick-knacks, odd, ends and general pile of rubbish...? He stands again in the middle of the cabin and scans the room, a fierce curl to his upper lip almost looking like a grin for a moment. Then his gaze falls upon the large chest resting in one corner, near the bed he woke up on. His heavy lids fall halfway closed and he walks up towards it cautiously. Could it be? It -is- large enough for a man to walk through, and it would be so very much like -her- to hide it in such a twisted way.
He draws his sword, using the tip to open the bolt and carefully flip the lid open. Ta da. For a moment, vertigo seizes him when his brain and eyes start arguing about perspective and where exactly is "up" but he manages to impose some measure of order and sanity. Yes, it definitely looks like a tavern, or an inn's common room, just like they warned him it would. Weird, but recognizable.
Ah, what the Hell, can't be weirder than having been on all three sides of life and death, can it...? And it is with this so very wrong thought that Héctor Barbossa steps or rather falls through the door and into Milliways.